


Carry Me Down

by compos_dementis



Category: Hannibal (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 07:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/compos_dementis/pseuds/compos_dementis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the tension between them finally snaps, it does so in a tidal wave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry Me Down

When the high strung tension between them finally snaps, it does so in a tidal wave. They are both drunk, Sherlock chuckling over a rather dark attempt at a joke on Will's part, and Will is mesmerized by the seemingly innocent sound coming from Sherlock's lips. They're sitting in Will's living room and there are high splotches of color on Sherlock's cheeks, a flush that Will has the sudden undeniable urge to brighten, to keep for himself. 

Sherlock's laughter dies away and Will is staring, captivated, at the cupid's bow mouth that still holds the barest traces of the smile that was just there. Will wishes to urge it back into existence, but instead he surges forward, capturing that mouth with his own. 

Sherlock's lips are hot against his own, his mouth wet and inviting, and though it has been a long -- a very long time since Will has ventured to do anything but gentle kisses with Alana Bloom, he takes to it like a fish to water. Sherlock is thin, wiry, when Will places one hand on the side of his neck, and it's a testament to just how trusting Sherlock is of him that the man doesn't even flinch. He could harm him right now, he realizes this, but all he does instead is suck the man's lower lip into his mouth, keeping the kiss wet and soft, fingers slipping up and into the wild dark curls of his hair.

There is a noise from one of them, a sort of half desperate sound, and Will can't be sure which one of them made it, only that it fuels him further on, sliding his free hand up Sherlock's side and resting in that small dip just under his ribs. The other flinches slightly as though ticklish, but then relaxes again into the kiss, mouth opening as he tries to speak, but Will takes control again, deepening the kiss, sighing happily at the sweet slide of his tongue against the other's. 

It's quick, after that. Desperate. Will is scrabbling to remove Sherlock's button-up, kissing his way down his neck, pressing him back into the couch with the hand previously in his hair. 

"Christ," Sherlock hoarsely whispers, licking his lips once and then his mouth falls open around a moan as Will sucks a particularly hard spot into Sherlock's neck. It's a delicious sound, and suddenly he wishes he could say something, but what would be appropriate? 

So instead he slips his hand just under Sherlock's tight shirt, feeling the hot skin there, and he almost audibly growls into the other's neck. "Is this all right?" he asks, his words a slur, and Sherlock is nodding, feverishly, bringing his hands up to Will's back and pulling him closer. 

Well, that's all the invitation he needs, really. 

In a swift movement, he has Sherlock on his back, and Will murmurs, "God, you're so eager," and that makes Sherlock's back arch up off the sofa, both of them practically rutting against one another fully clothed. "No- No witty comeback?"

"Shut up," Sherlock hisses, pulling him down for another kiss, this one harsh and needy. This is better, so much better, than the vulnerable and obedient Sherlock he saw just moments before. 

Sherlock takes control of the kiss now, those long violinist fingers raking over his back, his neck, through his hair. It's divine; it's something he's needed for quite a long while, he realizes. Just something simple, no pretenses, and soon his kisses die down into pecks, soft lingering brushes against one another's lips.

Will's breath comes panting and hot, like steam, but he takes a long breath and shifts lower, resting his head on Sherlock's skinny chest. The heartbeat beneath the ribs is fast and pounding, and Sherlock's hands tremble when they come up to brush Will's hair back from his forehead. 

"...You kissed me," Sherlock says belatedly, dumbly, and Will laughs. Oh, god, does it feel good to laugh.

"I guess I did, yeah."

"Why did you kiss me?"

The simply vulnerability of that question makes his heart break. It's obvious to anyone with eyes that Sherlock is one of those creatures who go through life unloved and unwanted by most, one of those magnificent things so easily overlooked by society. Will imagines a lonely childhood spent watching others play. He can feel Sherlock's confusion and genuine distress, and part of him just wants to make it his own instead.

"Because I like you," Will says. "I like you quite a lot, actually. Probably more than I should admit to liking you."

Sherlock is quiet for a long moment before he half whispers, "I've never been kissed like that before."

"No girlfriends in high school? Or-- boyfriends? I shouldn't assume."

"Neither. I'm not interested in people." Before Will can interject, Sherlock insists, "No-- you aren't people. You're... something else. You're apart from them in the best way possible. You remind me quite a lot of... of myself. Does that make sense?"

Will thinks it over. Listens to Sherlock's heartbeat and imagines it were his own. His eyes close, and he feels Sherlock's fingertips pause at his neck. Waiting for a response.

"Empathy and apathy," Will whispers. "What a pair we make."

Sherlock chuckles, but it's a sad noise, an empty one. He can't understand. He's incapable of understanding, and-- oh, and now the doors are opening, and Will can see him now. See why he struggles, why he cannot empathize. 

Magnificent creature.

"Kiss me again," Will insists, leaning up, and Sherlock does, and Will is certain they'll both be cramping tomorrow, but for now--

For now, this one small, simple thing is worth all the discomfort in the world.


End file.
